


Noble Injuries

by Chisscientist



Series: The Sillymarils are coming! [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Accidents, Gen, Humor, Noldor being people, Silmarillion humor, injuries with long-term impacts on plot, less-than-epic injuries, logically this ought to happen, mortal reaction to Eldar, nosy mortals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-13 09:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28901358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chisscientist/pseuds/Chisscientist
Summary: Elves live for such a long time. Surely they sometimes get injured in ways not involving duels with Morgoth or famous battles?
Relationships: Fingon and Hurin, Gil-galad and Numenor
Series: The Sillymarils are coming! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025743
Comments: 4
Kudos: 30





	1. Hurin makes assumptions

Húrin Thalion shifted from foot to food as he waited for his audience with King Fingon, tapping his fingers against his thigh. Whatever was causing the delay? 

Huor gave him a pointed look and a small gesture to use the chairs provided. Húrin rolled his eyes, but complied.

Just then, Norgalad, Fingon's steward, slipped out through the door to the audience chamber. Húrin jumped to his feet, while Huor rose a little more slowly to his.  
"I'm very sorry, my lords," Norgalad said, "but there has been an unexpected development, and the King is not available today. Would it be possible for you to see him tomorrow? Rooms and entertainment will be provided while you are here."

Húrin frowned slightly. "What happened? Nothing terrible, I hope?"

The steward winced. "No, he should be fine by tomorrow."

"He's hurt?" asked Huor.

"How did Morgoth manage to get an assassin into Barad Eithel, of all places?" demanded Húrin.

The steward blinked. "What assassin?"

"The one who injured him?" said Húrin.

The steward smiled suddenly. "No, no, he tripped on his state robes, and fell down the dais steps. He's sprained his ankle, and broken his wrist."

"He what?" said Húrin. He shook his head. _I thought elves were supposed to be graceful. _"Never mind. I suppose everyone is clumsy occasionally. We can wait till tomorrow."__


	2. Awkward Questions

Gil-galad looked up as Admiral Ciryatan sat down cross-legged beside him at the campfire. Gil-galad smiled tiredly at him. Gil might not like the man personally, for Ciryatan was proud, and had the tact of a rampaging oliphaunt, but he and his father's armament were the reason Gil-galad's kingdom still stood. That made up for a multitude of sins.

"Hello, Gil-galad," said Ciryatan.

"It's good to see you, Admiral," said Gil-galad. With Sauron fled and the war finally over, Ciryatan had greatly enjoyed the celebrating that was now winding down, and that Gil-galad had just escaped from himself.

"Ciryatan. It's good to see you, too, Gil-galad. I've always wondered about something." said Ciryatan, then fell silent. "Why don't you have an heir? You're what, 1,600 years old? Surely you ought to be a grandfather by now."

Gil-galad's hands clenched. If he had a soldier for every time he'd been asked that, let alone all the times people hadn't quite dared to ask that, he'd not have needed Numenor's aid! 

"Elrond is my heir," he answered, as he always did.

"He's nearly as old as you, and he's not married either," said Ciryatan. "What is wrong with you elves? Get married and have half a dozen babies each. It's not so hard, and you might even enjoy yourself."

Gil-galad closed his eyes and stifled a sigh, while reminding himself to be polite to the nosy man who had just saved his kingdom. "I cannot have children," he finally admitted.

One of Ciryatan's guards choked.

"Oh," said Ciryatan. He took a stick, and poked aimlessly at the campfire, moving a heavily-charred log and sending up sparks into the night sky. He turned back to Gil-galad. "Are you sure? I didn't realize that elves could have those kinds of problems. In Numenor the doctors have developed means of fixing many such things. They would be happy to assist."

"So have the healers among the Eldar. But that orc-mace did a lot of damage." The guards and Ciryatan both winced. "I am assured by Noldor and Vanyar healers alike that, short of Lady Estë herself, there is nothing that can be done. Kindly don't spread word of this about. I would rather Sauron not learn about this, assuming he doesn't already know." Given Celebrimbor's friendship with Annatar, Sauron most likely did know, but Gil-galad would still rather the entire world didn't. Even if it did lead to awkward questions on occasion.

"I'll keep it quiet," said Ciryatan. Behind him, both his guards nodded. "But I had to bring it up. It would be a terrible waste for Numenor to have gone to war to rescue Lindon, and then have the country fall apart a couple of years later because both you and Elrond were killed in the same hunting accident."

"Yes, I understand," said Gil-galad. "I am hoping that Elrond will find someone soon, and then" _fewer people will pester me _"there will be no issue. At least with Elrond in Imladris and me in Lindon, we are unlikely to be killed at the same time."__

__Ciryatan nodded, then took his leave._ _


End file.
